


To Light a Candle

by karenmcfadyyon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karenmcfadyyon/pseuds/karenmcfadyyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's better to light a candle than to curse the darkness...</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Light a Candle

"Thank God."

Elizabeth Weir heard Rodney's voice from the shadows in the hallway ahead and turned to see Rodney, his face a pale smudge in the darkness. Yes, she almost said in agreement, but the words froze in her throat.

Rodney wasn't alone.

In spite of the shadows, it was easy to recognize the lean body, the unruly shock of dark hair, and easy to see that Rodney and John were holding onto each other like children who had been lost and just been found. No, that was a disservice: not like children, but like two people who had faced the absolute worst loss of all and been given a reprieve, a second chance.

She melted back into the shadows at her end of the hallway.

"Thank God," Rodney said again and then, "I should be kicking your ass all over this city."

"I had to do it, Rodney." John's voice was hoarse. "I had to do it fast before I thought too much about it, before I froze. I don't have a death wish, I don't, but I could do something, and I had to."

"I know." Rodney didn't sound angry, he sounded grateful. "I know, but God, John."

"I know." John's voice was shaky. "I'm still in shock. I kind of figured I'd be ash and debris scattered in vacuum."

"Don't!" Fiercely. "Don't. You're here. Thank God for Caldwell pushing the engines."

"There's a lot of stuff I thought about, flying out there, things I wished I'd said," John said and then he didn't say anything more and they were so close they might have been welded together.

Elizabeth marveled that she wasn't surprised, wasn't shocked, wasn't disturbed. It seemed as if some part of her mind had known or, at least, suspected this. She didn't want to interrupt, didn't want to disturb them, but going back would draw attention and going forward certainly would.

She stayed in the shadows instead.

When Rodney pulled back, John took in a ragged breath. "Rodney, I'm sorry—"

"Shut up, John." Surprisingly gentle tone. "What matters is that we're here. We can say those things now."

"It's not going to be easy," John said, but his voice was easier, more hopeful. "Sneaking around, pretending. But I don't want to dance around this any more."

"The American military is moronic and primitive, yes, but we are in a different galaxy." Rodney's voice held a little more of its usual snap, but not all. "We'll manage."

"Rodney, you're a terrible liar."

"I guess we'll have to be careful enough that I don't actually have to lie."

She saw John's hand come up to cup Rodney's cheek. "I can do that." Shaky again, and they moved close again.

She thought they were kissing again, but it was shadowy enough that all she could see was the pale skin above their darker clothing.

"Besides," Rodney said after a moment, "Elizabeth chose you for this expedition, and Elizabeth has more integrity and loyalty than any ten people."

"I can't ask her to cover my ass," John said immediately. "I won't put her in that position."

"John," Rodney said and then didn't say anything for a long moment. "Let's just take it as it comes."

Soft laughter. "That's pretty reckless of you, Dr. McKay. I thought you had this whole thing about planning and organization."

"Planning and organization can be overrated," Rodney said. "Come on, we both need some sleep. And a shower. Not in that order."

"You know what they say, conserve water, shower with a friend."

"When you dive in, you really dive in," Rodney said, and his tone was approving. "And conservation is definitely an important consideration."

Footsteps as they began to walk away, moving farther away down the corridor.

Elizabeth found her eyes were wet. Facing death had an indelible effect on everyone, she thought, and sometimes love and connection were the only light in the abyss, flickering candles that kept despair and death from winning.

Sometimes that light was frail and needed a bit of shelter. Whatever else she could do, she thought she could at least provide that much.

Eavesdroppers, her mother had once said, never heard well of themselves. But sometimes, what they heard strengthened their resolve.

And in these times, in this place, they needed all the candles that could be lit.


End file.
